by Clyde Berry of John Garcia's The Column

I'd like to see this cast, really listen to each other, push each other's buttons, and make each other react.

To Gillian On Her 37th Birthday is one of those plays I'd always heard about and had neither read nor seen. I knew vaguely what it was about, but was pleasantly able to go to the production ready to experience everything for the first time. Gillian concerns David, a widower, and his daughter Rachel. The two lost their wife/mother Gillian two years prior in a boating accident, on the day of her birthday. Since her death, David has retired from teaching and spends his time brooding at their island beach house. As this summer ends, teenage Rachel returns from staying with her Aunt and Uncle, Esther and Paul, to find that her relationship with her father is strained. As Labor Day approaches, Esther and Paul visit, bringing with them a blind date for David, named Kevin (yes, a woman). Add to the mix Rachel's friend Cindy, who has a crush on David, and the occasional ghostly visits from Gillian, and you have yourself the makings of a potential drama (or a 1996 film that was a commercial flop).

The opening night of Gillian, as with most shows, was not without some glitches, which normally work themselves out. I have to admit however, that the constant ping of the Windows error message, as a technician was operating the sound, was particularly annoying. It happened repeatedly at the top of the show, and during intermission, as a constant disruption to the ambient sounds that were being played. Director/Designer Brad Stephens' set however, was very nicely executed. The back porch of the beach house was cozy, lived in, and nicely trimmed with rocks, beach debris, grasses, etc. The warm lighting at the top of the show was also particularly flattering in the black box venue, where the audience occupied two sides of the room, with the porch at the opposite corner, creating a nice triangular space lined out by the painted sand on the floor.

The cast told the story at an effective pace, and the piece moves quickly. They clearly know their lines and blocking; but, it sounds like lines, and looks like blocking. Stephens likes to keep characters contemplating far downstage, so don't sit on the outside seats away from the beach, you'll get a crick in your neck. All characters move about the space, without really seeming to want to move, but to hit a mark. There's no "discovery" of other characters, or looking around, folks move directly where they need to go from the moment we see them. No one "decides" to go anywhere, but seems to execute traffic. This is particularly evident in a few debates with Gillian and David. Still it is consistent with line deliveries. Everyone understands what they are saying, but the emotion is on the page and often not in the performance. They sound angry for example, but they aren't being angry.

Scenes are played with one emotional range, that often turns on a dime. Folks sob and suddenly stop and are perfectly fine again. As a result the characters often seem rather flat, and lacking tension. If there's no underlying emotion to anything, it's hard to have empathy for the characters. When everything is declarative, there's no internal struggle or choice. We are left with the lines to do all the work for us, instead of the subtlety of the actors' interpretations. I'd like to see this cast, really listen to each other, push each other's buttons, and make each other react.

Between scenes, apparently to evoke more emotion, lots of contemporary music is used. Songs have clearly been chosen to comment on the issue relevant in the previous scene, but these transitions are awkward and ineffective. Why are these lengthy moments where characters stride to a mark, and wait for a certain lyric to exit, even necessary? Shouldn't the scene alone have established this emotional response? These heavy-handed movie-montage bits are even more uncomfortable when combined with abrupt changes in lighting, from day to night, and back, undoing what the interlude was trying to create. The most awkward of these moments features a Billy Joel lullaby that shifts into a scene where the characters stare at each other a good thirty seconds or more before "seeing" each other when the music finishes.

Josh Hepola plays the widower David. His best moment is his last two pages of dialog on the porch with Kevin. He had energy, excitement, and was emotionally invested in the moment. This was the David that would have been great to see the whole show, the one who makes choices and means what he says. There was chemistry that would have been wonderful to watch change his character throughout the piece.

Rebekah Kennedy and Ragen Jansky play the teens in the piece, Rachel, the daughter, and Cindy the friend. Cindy does well at turning a sarcastic phrase, and has a few genuine Lolita moments. She is at her best when paired with Paul, David's brother-in-law. Kennedy plays a very mature Rachel, which creates an interesting dynamic with her father David. Though they are not a playful parent/daughter pair, they have some interesting adult debates.

Gillian's sister, psychologist Esther, is brash, bossy, and sharp, a nice contrast to the introspective David. Lacy Lambert plays Esther with lots of life, and delivers several nice punchlines. David, Esther's husband, is delightfully created by Jack Dotson. Dotson is the most natural of the cast, thinking about what he says, and actually letting moments happen. The audience perks up every time he enters, as when he's around, he's in control of the scene.

Jenny George's Kevin, gets thrown into several awkward dynamics with the other characters. George is consistent in her portrayal and shares a nice closing scene with Hepola.

Arlette Morgan has the challenging task of bringing to life Gillian. Her ghost appears and functions as sort of a warm and caring Jacob Marley. She helps David figure out his priorities and direction his future will head. It's not easy to play a ghost, especially if the character is based off how David perceives her to be, instead of who she really was in life. Morgan has several nice moments where her warm and caring spirit illustrate the love she had for David. In addition, Morgan gives a moving turn in a dramatic monologue that ultimately makes David decide his course.

While David's options are but two, stay in mourning, or move on, the point of the piece, and the interesting journey for the audience, is to see what he decides and how he gets there. At what point is it ok to move on, and how do we honor the past without getting stuck in it?

To Gillian on Her 37th Birthday, presented by Mesquite Community Theatre, runs through April 25. Call 972-216-8126 for reservations.

What do you think?